


Heavier Than a Cell Phone

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 19:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13531281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Seth calls Dean to check in after the Royal Rumble. Things get sticky.





	Heavier Than a Cell Phone

“I miss you,” Seth said into the phone. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you wearing?” Dean said.

“Still in my ring gear,” Seth responded. He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he unlaced his left boot.

“I know, I mean, what the hell are you wearing? You look like Guy Fieri.”

“You are not the fashion police. They aren’t even here.” Seth switched sides and got his other boot off.

A moment of silence hung between them, the heaviness of Seth losing the title that should have been theirs but instead...

“Fuck the kid. It’s like you were stuck doing a group project with him because I dropped out or some shit,” Dean said.

“I want to murder him,” Seth said. “He thinks he’s so great. He thinks he’s better than you.”

“I mean, he is, but he shouldn’t _say_ it,” Dean said. There was a rustling sound on his end of the phone.

“Wait, what? No he is not,” Seth said with nasal rage. “No one is as good as you.”

“Lots of people are as good as me. Lots of people don’t tear their elbow in half and ruin their chances at going to another Wrestlemania. He’ll never miss a mania. He’s better.”

Seth scowled. “I just got my ass handed to me in two different matches, don’t do this.”

“You’re great, Seth,” Dean said, “you’ll bounce back. You always do.”

“So what are _you_  wearing?” Seth shot back. “It’s only fair.”

“I’m wearing a grey tank top and a white jock strap,” Dean said.

Seth swallowed. “And is that it?” He put Dean on speaker and put the phone down. There was no one in the locker room.

“And a ten gallon cowboy hat, one of those big purple foam ones. I look damn sexy.”

Seth rolled his tights off and stepped into a loose pair of basketball shorts, trying hard not to brush his half-hard dick. The light touch of cloth gave him goosebumps all over his body. He grabbed a black tee shirt and pulled it on.

“Can I call you back?” He asked.

“Sure,” Dean said. “Not like I have anywhere to be.”

Seth rushed to finish changing and pull his hoodie on and snuck out the back way through the arena, finding his rental car parked distantly in the back, next to the equipment trucks.

He connected to the Bluetooth and dialed again.

“Yello,” Dean said.

“Touch yourself,” Seth said.

“Who is this?” Dean teased. “I just got a new phone.”

“Get to jacking it, Dean, I don’t have all night.”

“I’m not supposed to lift anything heavier than a cell phone,” Dean said, and Seth could hear the grin in his voice.

“Shut up, you fucking asshole, and touch yourself.”

“Awful bossy for the former champ,” Dean said.

“You could say so yourself,” Seth countered. He tilted the seat back and reached down the front of his shorts with his right hand. He shivered as he wrapped a hand around his dick.

“Are you in the locker room? Tell me I’m not on speakerphone,” Dean said.

“I'm in the car,” Seth said.

“Get on the expressway,” Dean said in a breathy voice. “Put on the cruise control.”

“Goddamnit Dean, I could just hang up.”

The words hung in the air between them. Seth’s palm was cold against his warm flesh.

“You could,” Dean said. “You don’t really need me to do this.”

“I do,” Seth said. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard a tear formed in the corner and he felt it slide down the side of his face. “I need you.”

Dean sighed. “Say that again.”

“That’s my hand on your dick,” Dean said. His voice was rough and raspy, a near whisper. Seth touched himself and believed it. Dean was right there, inches away. He kept his eyes closed, and his breath was coming faster. It was dizzying.

“Are you on the bed?” Seth asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

“Get the lube out of the drawer,” Seth said.

He could hear Dean put the phone down and rustle around.

“Left fingers,” Seth gasped, sliding his fist up and over the tip of his cock and then back down, flicking his wrist like he would if it were Dean, if he could touch him right now. “Get them real slick.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean said. “I got it. Sure I can’t use my right?”

“I really want you to have to explain how you re-injured your arm fingering yourself, Dean.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing, now?”

“Yeah,” Seth breathed. “Yeah.”

The windows of the car were starting to steam up. Seth stopped moving and thumbed the slit of his cockhead, feeling the wetness and thinking about Dean.

“That’s me inside you,” Seth said.

“Don’t I know it,” Dean said. “How’s my hand feel on your cock.”

“Feels great,” Seth said.

“Oh, oh fuck,” Dean said. “Talk to me, Seth, tell me more.”

Seth clenched his toes inside his shoes, arching his back and pushing off against the floorboards, and stroked himself too. “You make my toes curl, you make my hair stand on end. You make me crazy and I miss you, goddammit, I miss you so goddamn much, more than I thought I could miss you when I was being the worst fucking fuckhead of all time.” He got that warm feeling like something was coming. “I didn’t think I’d fucking lose you again so freaking soon.”

“I’m not lost,” Dean whispered. “I’m right here.”

Tears were leaking out of Seth’s closed eyes and he was coming, splashing his shirt and the steering wheel and he swore loudly and repeatedly until he was done and twitching and Dean was saying his name.

“Seth, Seth, oh Seth,” Dean moaned.

“I love you,” Seth said, trying to regain control. He was a sticky, teary mess, and if only Dean were really here, they’d both be even worse.

Dean groaned and Seth couldn’t make out his words. There was a loud clatter, and then static.

“Dean?”

Silence. Seth heard movement behind him and saw lights approaching in the rear view window of the car. He wiped his hand on his shorts, tucked himself back in, and started the engine.

On to the hotel, and night after night chained end to end. As long of a chain as he could stand to make, if he could help it, Seth thought.

“You still there?” Dean said. “Dropped the phone. Then I couldn’t reach it, this fucking sling.”

“Yeah,” Seth said. “I’m here.”

“I’m gonna see you Wednesday,” Dean said. It wasn’t a question.

Seth bit his lip. “Can’t wait,” he said.


End file.
